


The Last Summer

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-07
Updated: 2015-10-07
Packaged: 2018-04-25 05:47:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4948936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Following her father's death, Clarke Griffin and her mother decide to spend the summer after her senior year at their old beach house. Upon arrival Clarke quickly befriends the local group of delinquents, which happens to include tall, dark and arrogant Bellamy Blake. It's not that Clarke dislikes him - it's more that she's trying her best not to like him too much. But anything can happen in a summer, right? </p><p>Slow burn Bellarke AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Last Summer

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is the first AU story I've ever written for a fandom, and I can only hope that I've managed to do justice to the characters. I tried to write something with a post-season two theme but there is just no way I can possible compete with the show's writers right now. So yeah, I have some planning place for this story already, however if something else seems to fit better then I may have a think around. So for now, at least, I'm going to try to update as often as I can. 
> 
> P.S. I received some comments from people who were confused about what the tagged relationships meant for this work. Although this is going to be a Bellarke story, because it is a slow burn there will be elements of Clarke's relationships with Finn and Lexa as well. The tags weren't meant to indicate that this is a Clexa or Flarke story, but to simply give you some more information about what will be happening within the story. Sorry for any confusion about that. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys like this! It was mean the world for me if you comment and just let know what you think of this so far. Enjoy - I hope!

Clarke remembered it had been raining. She remembered that it had been raining and her father had lost control of the car as they neared a bend in a road. After that everything was blank, and Clarke found herself replaying the accident in her mind as she always found herself doing whenever she rode in a car these days.

"Keep your feet off the dashboard," her mother snapped tiresomely.

With a disgruntled sigh, Clarke did as she was told and opened her eyes again. It was sunny outside and they were on a long, straight stretch of the highway. This didn't make her feel any better, but then again she hadn't expected it to, anyway.

It had been a tense journey so far. Instead of going to school this morning, Clarke's mother had announced over breakfast that since Clarke already had all the points she needed to graduate that there was no point in wasting the summer. Before Clarke knew it, they were packing up the car with suitcases and bags and anything else they might need. She knew the real reason why there were heading out of town though - it was Father's Day, and up until then Clarke had tried really hard not to think about it.

But now, as she faced at least another hour on the open road with her mother, it was all she could think about.

Especially considering they were heading to their old family beach house, where Clarke had spent every summer with her parents until she was around ten years old. That was when her mother was promoted to the Head of Medicine at her hospital, and after that there was never really a good time to go on a family vacation. But for Clarke this wasn't a family vacation, not without her dad there with them. Absentmindedly, she put her feet back up on the dashboard and slumped lower into the leather seat.

"Clarke!" Her mom yelled a few seconds later. "Did you even listen to what I just said?"

"Sorry," she mumbled, kicking her feet down again and turning to face the window.

They were far out of Washington by now, and all around her she could see open fields and woodland. She knew that the Virginia coast wasn't far away, and that they'd soon be in the small town of Ark Bay for the first time in almost eight years. The thought made her stomach churn, but she tried to console herself with the knowledge that they'd at least be by the sea. Clarke had been smart enough, at least, to pack some art supplies with her.

The journey went by slowly and Clarke idly played games on her phone, while her mother occasionally told her about the new interns at her hospital or offered up snippets of gossip from the country club. Small talk seemed to be the only way they could communicate these days without arguing, and Abby didn't seem in the mood to fight while they were stuck in a car together.

Eventually the fields gave way to buildings, then streets, then the town of Ark Bay itself. It had a New England charm to it, which Clarke remembered well from her childhood, and as they drove through Main Street she could already smell the salty sea air and hear the cries of gulls above them.

Their beach house was located in the north part of the town, where the neighborhoods were more affluent and the houses were more modern. Even though they hadn't visited in so long, Clarke knew that her mom had made sure the house had still been regularly cleaned and maintained. Even if her mother was a control freak, at least it was a productive trait. Although Clarke didn't like to admit, it was also something she had definitely inherited.

So the first thing she did when she entered her old bedroom was straighten the crooked painting above the dresser. It was a pastel colored picture of mermaids lazing on the beach, and the sight of it made Clarke feel incredibly childlike again. She couldn't help but wonder if her mom or dad had picked out it for her.

She turned her attentions to the books on her old bookcase, mostly a mismatched collection of novels and storybooks that she'd left there over the years. Some of them were even from when she was first learning to read. Clarke couldn't help but smile despite herself at the sight of The Very Hungry Caterpillar on one of the shelves.

After a while she began to unpack, methodically putting away her clothes and possessions. As she opened the top draw of the dresser Clarke glanced at the mermaid painting again. She let out a shaky breath, thought seriously about taking it down and throwing it out of her bedroom window, then simply continued to put her things away. If nothing, she could occasionally be calm and collected like a true Griffin woman.

"How's it going?" Her mother asked a moment later as she poked her head around the door frame.

"Okay, I guess. I feel like the decor is a bit dated,"

Abby looked around the room thoughtfully. "How about we go into town tomorrow and pick you out some new things?"

"That'd be cool," Clarke replied flatly.

"Good," her mother replied, seemingly oblivious. "I think it'll be nice. I'll let you finish up in your room for now, honey."

And with that Clarke was alone again. She sat down on the bed and tried not to think about the horrors that shopping with her mother entailed. Then she tried not to think about how bad a summer alone with her would be, but only ended up giving herself a headache.

Deciding to do something better than just sit there and wallow, Clarke packed a sketchbook and some charcoal sticks into her shoulder bag before glancing out the window at the beach below. At least a summer in Ark Bay would be scenic.

 

Later that evening they arrived, after much arguing on Clarke's behalf, at a restaurant in town called the Surf 'N' Turf. A pretty waitress that was around the same age as Clarke met them at the door. She offered them a bright smile that Abby returned politely, although her daughter couldn't quite manage to do the same.

"Is it just the two of you?" The girl asked.

"Yes," Abby said while Clarke grimaced at her.

The waitress turned and started to lead them across the restaurant, her long dark ponytail swishing wildly as she walked.

They were seated at a table for two underneath a ceiling fan, and the reminder that her father wasn't there to eat with them made Clarke feel sick. Her mother pushed a menu towards her, an obviously fake smile plastered across her face. Everything seemed so wrong.

"I think I'll go for the shrimp," her mother said conversationally once the waiter had left, "what would you like, honey?"

Clarke's stomach churned as she skimmed through the menu. "You know, I don't feel so hungry anymore."

"Don't be silly," her mother pressed.

"Seriously, Mom," Clarke sighed, brushing a loose strand of her behind her ear as she always did when she felt uncomfortable.

"Well, how about you just have a salad?"

Clarke opened her mouth to argue back but stopped herself, knowing it was neither the time nor place. God forbid she caused a scene and embarrassed her oh-so-perfect mother in public. Instead she gave a small nod and turned her attention to her phone, hoping a newly received text from Wells could distract her.

To: Clarke. From: Wells. Hey, just wanted to say I hope you got to Ark Bay alright. Give me a call later.

Clarke began to reply but was interrupted when her mother cleared her throat loudly.

"That's rude, Clarke," she snapped.

"Sorry," Clarke mumbled, putting the iPhone back in her pocket reluctantly.

Thankfully the waitress came back before Abby could continue to reprimand her, asking them cheerfully if they were ready to order.

"I'll have the fried shrimp, and my daughter will have the egg salad," Abby told her. "And could we also get a glass of the house red and a diet soda? Thanks."

"Of course," the waitress said with another smile before taking their menus and leaving them again.

"See," her mother began. "That was a conversation. Why is it so hard for you to talk to me?"

"That was her taking our order because she gets paid to do it," Clarke replied sharply. "Hardly an actual conversation, Mom."

"Christ, Clarke. This is exactly what I mean. Whatever I say, whatever I do – you're always there to bite my head off."

Clarke folded her arms across her chest, knowing that she wouldn't be able to hold back tears for much longer. Why was it so hard for her mom to understand that the last place she wanted to be on Father's Day was a busy restaurant? Being in Ark Bay, away from her friends, wasn't exactly great in the first place.

"I need to use the bathroom," Clarke murmured as she got up. "Excuse me."

Abby sighed but didn't try to stop her.

Clarke quickly followed the sign to the ladies room and slammed the cubicle door shut behind her. For a few seconds she didn't even breathe, but then all of sudden she was crying and she couldn't stop. She lowered herself down to the linoleum floor and hugged her knees to her chest.

She missed her dad unbearably. She couldn't spend two minutes alone with her mother without wanting to scream. Clarke felt defeated, as if the fact that she was sobbing on the bathroom floor of the Surf 'N' Turf wasn't proof enough.

Then the door to the Ladies' Room opened quietly and Clarke quieted as she heard the other person stop right outside her cubicle door.

"Are you okay in there?" It was the young waitress who'd been serving them. Clarke wondered for a minute if her mother had sent the girl in after.

"I-I-I'm fine," Clarke croaked out.

"You don't sound fine,"

"Really, I'm fine," Clarke hoped her voice betrayed her less this time.

"Well, what's your name?" The girl asked from the other side of the door.

"Clarke. Clarke Griffin."

"I'm Octavia Blake," the girl told her. "Look, do you want to talk?"

A few minutes of silence followed and Octavia was about to give up when the cubicle door finally creaked open. A tear-stained Clarke faced her and the brunette couldn't help but offer her a small smile.

"I get it if your mom's a pain in the ass or something," she said. "But it's not worth sitting on that floor and crying about. I don't think anyone's bothered to clean it in, like, a year."

Clarke laughed despite herself, but the noise came out strangled and pitiful.

"It's not that," she told Octavia. "It's just that this is really the last place I want to be right now."

Octavia looked at her thoughtfully. "I get that. You're not from around here, are you?"

"No. My parents – I mean, my mom – has a beach house here," Clarke said, her hands trembling as she spoke.

"I finish at nine. I'm heading down to the beach to hang out with some friends afterwards, if you wanted to come with me? You look like a girl who could seriously do with a drink."

Clarke found herself smiling at the other girl now. There was almost no hesitation at all when she nodded in response. The chance of getting away from her mom for a few hours was a blessing, and Clarke felt herself already beginning to like the waitress.

After wiping her eyes and agreeing to meet Octavia in the parking lot after she'd finished eating, Clarke returned to the table and managed to make it through the following hour.

 

By quarter to eight they were finished, the cheque was paid and Abby was surprisingly eager to get home. Clarke followed her mom out into the parking lot, where the sea wind had rolled in and blew around them wildly. She stopped short before they reached the Ranger Rover.

"I'm going to go out for the evening," Clarke told her matter-of-factly.

"What do you mean?" Abby asked as she unlocked the car. "Where are you going to go?"

"I got invited to the beach to hang out with some people."

"What people?"

Clarke sighed. "Just people, okay? Teenagers, like me."

"Well I hope you're talking about nice, mature teenagers," Abby put her hands on her hips, then relented and turned back towards the car. "Do I need to drop you anywhere?"

"No, it's fine," Clarke said, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot.

"Okay. Well, I want you home by eleven – no later or I'll come and get you myself."

"Eleven?" Clarke guffawed.

"You're not eighteen yet, honey," Abby said with a small smile as she got into the driver's seat. She rolled down the window once she'd reversed out of the space. "Stay safe."

Clarke nodded quickly, then watched as her mother pulled out of the exit and drove away down the street. She hadn't expected it to be quite so easy to get her mother to let her hang out with anyone other than Wells, but she decided not to think too much into it.

She sat down on a bench outside the restaurant entrance and watched as the tide rolled in on the beach below them. While she waited, she finally sent a text message back to her best friend and then scrolled through Twitter for a while.

"Nice phone," Octavia said, startling Clarke. She hadn't even noticed the brunette come outside. Now she saw that the other girl had changed out of her work uniform, and was dressed casually in ripped jeans and a lacy black top. Clarke felt incredibly overdressed all of a sudden as she looked down at the conservative sundress she herself wore.

"Thanks," she tried to say in the friendliest tone she could manage.

"Don't worry, I won't steal it," Octavia laughed, then quietly added, "but you might want to put that away where we're going."

"What do you mean?" Clarke asked worrisomely.

"Not that anyone would steal it," the brunette quickly added as she gestured for Clarke to follow her to her car. "It's more that they might… you know, tamper with it."

Clarke decided not to press the matter further and simply slipped her phone back into her pocket again. They got into a slightly rusted and beat-up Ford, and Octavia couldn't help but self-consciously apologize for the non-existent mess inside of it. Then she quickly turned the radio on in a way of changing the conversation.

"This is a local band they're playing," Octavia told her as a rock song started to blare out of the speakers. "If you wanted to you could come with me to see them play next week?"

"Sure," Clarke replied, which seemed to please the brunette. They exited the parking lot and drove down the coastal road for a few miles before pulling up by a dirt track just past the marina. There were various other cars parked nearby, and Clarke felt slightly apprehensive as she realized that it was more than just a few people they were meeting.

"Is this a party?"

"Sort of," Octavia laughed as she turned off the ignition. "Why? Afraid you'll get drunk and humiliate yourself?"

"No," Clarke shot back quickly.

"Good, because that's my thing," Octavia said, and Clarke wasn't sure if she was joking or not.

They got out of the car and Clarke tried her best to smooth down the wrinkles in her dress, as if she was at some country club function and not about to attend a kegger on the beach. The truth was, she didn't really know how to act appropriately in this kind of situation. Sure, she'd been to high school parties before, but they were stuffy affairs where rich kids stuck to small talk and drank spirits that probably cost more per bottle than Octavia's car. This was a whole other realm of teenage-hood that she had not until now been privy to.

"Come on," Octavia encouraged her as she started up the dirt track that Clarke could only assume led to an enclosed stretch of the beach.

The blonde girl swallowed hard, debated for a half-second to make an excuse to go home, then shook the thought from her mind. If she couldn't spend Father's Day with her dad, then the next best option was to spend it drunk. Or, at least, that's what Clarke told herself.


End file.
